


The Spartan

by Hunters_Grace



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece & Rome, Alternate Universe - No Demingods (Percy Jackson), F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-27 21:19:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15033533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hunters_Grace/pseuds/Hunters_Grace
Summary: The Romans wage war with Greece on all fronts, and to expand the Empire, they must crush the growing Greek rebellion.That victory would come with the defeat of its strongest cities, its most powerful warriors, but if you want to bring about the Greeks silence... Well, you best make sure you've put them all to death.Because if one wolf survives, then the sheep are never safe...This. Is. Sparta.Here you will pay for a life with your own.





	1. Enter The Empire

**Author's Note:**

> Rome wants something that Sparta have...   
> Problem is, they have to get through the Spartan army to take it.  
> Hope you enjoy it.  
> Like, comment, and let me know what you think.

The Romans had arrived without warning. Though really, the Spartan Queen should’ve known it was coming… They’d tried to buy Sparta’s allegiance, but they were loyally Greek, so it was only ever a matter of time before they tried to conquer the city instead - as they had already started doing with other areas of Greece.

The city was ablaze in areas, bathed in blood in others, children screamed as war raged around them and eventually began to strip away those young lives along with those of their parents. She’d seen them briefly, the Romans that broke through the palace doors, and it set her legs into motion to kick herself towards the marble building - a handful of her best soldiers on her heels as she ran.

They’d cut their way through the legionnaires stupid enough to take a stand against them, fighting in a way that only a Spartan could ever manage.

They still hadn’t made it in time though.

The woman, all lithe muscle and short dark hair and eyes bluer than the aegean sea - the woman had managed to burst through run through the doors to the courtyard with enough time to cut the Roman soldiers that held the Queen still, catching her before she could fall to the floor as a cry tore from her throat. The word halting the warrior immediately.

“JASON!”

Blue eyes filled with tears, a strong jaw clenching with rage as she watched the legionnaire flash a smug grin at her as he cleaved her brother’s head from his shoulders. The Spartan sat the Queen against the cobblestones as she strode towards the man, anger present in her eyes, in her walk. The man made to swing for her and she rid his body of his sword arm, before holding her blade level with the man’s throat.

She saw the crowd gathering around them, the Roman’s over their legionnaire’s shoulder, the Greeks over hers, and she looked into the eyes of the man she knew had led the charge against her city.

“This is Sparta… Here you pay for a life with your own. Tell your Emperor, if he wants our city, he’ll have to do much better than you…”

The Spartan pushed the blade through the man’s throat until it was buried to the hilt, watching as he choked on her blade and his own blood until his eyes rolled back into his head.

“In the name of the Gods! I demand you get out of my city, Roman!”

The legion had backed away a few paces. A large portion of them looking at the woman before them in fear, their leader just regarded her with a slightly piqued interest.

“You cannot make demands of us. By Spartan law, whoever dethrones the ruler becomes king… Your king’s head is on the floor girl, your city is taken for Rome, and your king’s wife will be the Emperor’s.” The Queen had stood slowly, pacing her way to stand just behind the woman speaking for Sparta. The woman laughed bitterly at the Roman before her.

“You Romans never have understood our law…” The woman spoke harshly as she yanked her sword free of the dead man’s throat to point the dripping blade at the Roman leader.   
“We rule on birthright if unchallenged in rule… You challenged, I see that. I also see you challenged the wrong Greek.”

The Spartan Army took up stance behind the woman. Banging swords against shields and preparing to continue the war.

“My name is Thalia Grace. I am the Queen of Sparta and will be until my death. My city is Greek, and my wife is going nowhere… Now. Get. Out. Of. My. City. Before I send your Emperor your head too!”

The Roman leader gulped, backing down as the Spartan army strode towards them, their Queen happy to take lead. 

“Fall back to the Empire.” The older man spat at his men. “This isn’t over Spartan.”

“Then I look forward to painting my city red with your blood.”

The man spun on his heel then, red cloak billowing behind him as he made his exit along with his legionnaires.

Several of the Spartan army had stayed on watch overnight, the city almost expecting an immediate return from the Romans, but it didn’t come. At least not tonight. The city was placed under mourning, and the dead had their burial rights that evening before the eyes of the Gods. Today Thalia had tasted a victory, that felt very much like a loss.

“My love, I know it’s a stupid question but… are you okay?”

Blue eyes flicked slowly to meet the deep brown of her wife’s, the shorter woman holding her hand tight so she knew she wasn’t as alone as she felt right now.

“I let him down…” Thalia muttered softly.

“No, my love, you didn’t. You could never.”

“I should never have left him though…”

“Thalia.” Her wife said strongly, turning her to properly meet her gaze. “There was nothing you could have done. Jason was as much a Spartan as you are, he knew how to handle himself, but the Romans don’t fight fair. Don’t fight Greek.”

“I know that, I’ve sparred with you before remember?”

The younger woman flashed a cheeky smile at her wife, remembering very clearly the day she’d first fought the other woman, and had her pinned with a knife at her throat in under   
3 minutes. The Spartan managing to crack a smile in return.

“What would I do without you Reyna, huh?”

“Oh, I don’t know, probably be some horribly sarcastic Queen who still desperately needs to be taken down a peg or two.”

Thalia held a hand to her heart in mock offence as she let her wife lead her back to their bed to lie down. Reyna draped an arm over Thalia’s midsection, that had become slightly exposed from the way her sleep shirt had ridden up, stroking at the muscle she found there to try and soothe the other woman.

“There was nothing more you could’ve done… You saved hundreds of people today.”

“But not all of them… I was worried they’d kill you too you know.”

“I know love, but I’m fine, you kept me safe. I’m right here in your arms, see? You’ve got me, always.” 

Reyna knew realistically she couldn’t promise that she’d always be there in the world they lived in, but she would promise it nevertheless. She may have been Roman born, but she was Spartan made and she could fight her own way out of a corner if she had too to try and keep that promise. 

“I know it’s your homeland Rey… but Rome will pay for this.” The Greek felt her wife wipe the tears from her cheek as she nodded her understanding.

“They will. But not today. Give yourself time to mourn, you’re allowed that much.”

Thalia turned onto her side so she could properly envelop the other woman in a hug, placing a kiss against her forehead.

“I love you, you know that don’t you?” Reyna smiled, pressing a kiss to the crook of Thalia’s neck where she rested her head.

“Of course I do my love. I love you too… Now try and get some rest for me okay? I have a feeling you’ll need your strength again soon.”


	2. The Fallen City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rome had suffered defeat at the hands of Sparta, and they were never likely to take kindly to that.  
> So, they would return, and they would come vying for the blood of the Spartan Queen.  
> This. Is. Sparta.  
> Sparta kneels for no man. Sparta falls for no man. Sparta will stand until it is burnt to ashes...  
> Because that is what its Queens demand of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparta faces a second attack from Rome, but its Queens will not yield their city.  
> They will fight until there is no-one left to fight, or until they die.  
> Hope you enjoy it.  
> Like, comment, and let me know what you think.

They got 3 days. Greeks hold mourning for 3 days and that was all the reprieve they were given from the Roman legion before they broke down the city gates and declared war on the Spartans again… This time with an army that had almost doubled in size.

The Spartans had no help.

They’d sent word to Athens, Delos, Olympia, anyone… They got no help.

So they stood alone against the Roman legion that seemed determined to seize their city as the next part of their Empire, but if the Romans wanted this city, they’d have to kill every Spartan in their way first. A task that no-one had yet to accomplish, but if nothing else, the Romans had the numerical advantage.

The Spartan Queens didn’t care though. They’d fight until there was no-one left to fight against them or with them, they’d have to if they wanted to protect the Greek city.

Thalia fought, as she always did, in the front lines with her soldiers - her Queen by her side until the younger woman saw the Romans burst through the doors to the palace.

“Thalia!” The bright blues of the other woman’s eyes locked onto her wife, the soldiers around her covering her for a moment as she fell back to Reyna’s side. “I’m going to go deal with the ones in the palace. How many can you spare?”

“Perseus! Take 10 men and follow your Queen to palace!” Reyna smiled her thanks, placing a desperate kiss to the woman’s lips as the soldiers gathered by them.

“Don’t die, okay?”

“You too love… I’ll come back to you.”

Then she was gone. Taking off down the main road to the palace with the Spartan soldiers on her heels. The group cut their way through masses of the legionnaires that had swarmed the area, but they were greatly outnumbered and it was only a matter of time until Reyna was left standing side by side with one Spartan instead of ten… The two stood there as a group of about 20 Romans crowded the hallway in front of them, and Reyna turned to address the man next to her simply.

“Perseus… Will you go and tell my wife that I might need some more help?”

The man nodded simply, a smirk pulling at his lips as he looked at the woman. Had it been anyone else that had suggested he left them alone right now then he would’ve called them mad, but the Roman Queen of Sparta had more than proved her metal in the years she had been here, so he was more inclined to do as he was asked.

“Yes, your Grace.”

Reyna set herself to fight off as many of the Romans as she could. Sword spinning in her hand as she took up stance, almost daring them to make the first move.

None of them did though. The Queen stood, her brow furrowed in confusion as she stared at the men who didn’t even attempt to make a move against her.

“What? Are you scared of one woman or something?” She sneered.

“No, your Grace. They just know they don’t need to do anything.”

Reyna spun, sword swinging around with her, only for her arm to be caught and the blade ripped free of her hand by the man that had led the Romans into battle when they’d last set foot in this palace. He was an older man, grey hairs starting to appear through what was otherwise closely cropped black hair. Reyna was sure she knew him, but in that moment she couldn’t place where she knew him from, or what his name was.

“I think it’s time you come home with us your Grace. Your sister seems to have forgotten that you were promised to the Roman Emperor, not some Spartan scum.”

“I don’t need to go home, I am home… and I’m promised to no-one but my wife. She’ll come for you, you know that?”

“I’m counting on it, your Grace.” The Roman snarled in response, drawing his sword as footsteps rang out clearly against the marble floor of the palace hallway. The sound echoing from somewhere around the corner just behind the legionnaires that were holding Reyna still, as if to prevent her from even attempting to fight back when the Spartan Queen rounded the corner.

Reyna knew it was her wife when the Greek words reached her ears, the voice familiar enough to her by now. She wanted to call out, to warn the woman, but the second she tried a   
Roman hand had clamped over her mouth. All she could do was wait.

But she really wished she hadn’t just waited…

Reyna didn’t know how it had happened. Everything had gone so fast, but at the same time it felt as though time had frozen - her life slowing to this one moment.

Thalia had sprinted back through to the palace, her soldiers left trailing a few feet behind her as she ran for her wife. She knew Reyna could handle herself, but they were greatly outnumbered today and she couldn’t lose her. The Spartan didn’t know how far Reyna had managed to get so she ran as fast as she could to try and find her, stupidly meaning that she’d forgotten to check around the corners of the palace, instead just charging through the corridors she knew so well.

Or at least, she was charging through them, until she rounded the corner leading to the throne room… 

Thalia came to a stumbling halt as a Roman soldier had spun with a blade drawn, cutting a deep gash across the Spartan’s torso from hip to shoulder. 

Thalia looked down, a hand shaking as she touched at the wound, blood running thickly across her hand and down her abdomen. She saw her wife merely feet in front of her, tears streaming from her eyes as she screamed into the hand of the Roman soldier that was clamped over her mouth. Reyna clawed desperately at the arm of the legionnaire holding her as she watch Thalia fall to her knees, the Roman leader kneeling the tug the Spartan’s head up so she could meet her wives gaze as he spoke into her ear.

“I want you to watch Spartan… As I take everything from you. Your city belongs to the Empire. Your wife belongs to the Emperor. And you… Well, your life is mine to take.”

The man shoved the Greek hard, causing her to collapse against the floor, unable to do anything but watch the Romans drag Reyna from the palace whilst she herself was left to bleed out on the white marble flooring of her palace. The stones beneath her turning red as her blood spread slowly out around her, as Romans turned her city over to one that would serve the Empire, as Romans took the love of her life from her, as she could do nothing to stop any of it…

That was 9 months ago…

Reyna had been dragged back to Rome over the next few days, she was kicking and screaming the whole way there, but they took her to Rome nonetheless.

She’d lost her. Her Queen, her wife, she’d asked her to come and help her in the fight instead of telling her to take the survivors and run… Because of her Sparta had fallen,   
because of her Thalia was dead.

She’d lost everything, and been forced to take up a life that she’d much rather have avoided…

She’d reached Rome to find her sister waiting for her. The older woman having been in tears a few hours later as she explained to her that their father had promised Reyna to the Emperor when they both came of age before he died. Neither of them had known though, and Reyna had married the Spartan Queen years ago, but now the Emperor had decided to take a wife and that had led to the attacks on Sparta…

He’d married her weeks later. The Emperor was a cruel man, he spoke harshly and acted in a manner even worse. He knew Reyna wanted to be anywhere but with him, so he often made a point of publicly claiming her as his wife, and of privately beating her into submission until she learnt how to properly conduct herself around him to avoid the worst of his aggression.

Today was one of the days she’d been dreading the most since she’d arrived in Rome though.

Today, they opened the Colosseum for gladiator fights… now, Reyna had never been bothered by watching a fight or seeing blood, she’d spent many years in Sparta where the sight of both was a daily occurrence. The problem was, that many of the slaves that would die at the hands of trained Roman gladiators were Greek, and a handful were specifically Spartan.

The Emperor had made a point before of taking her down to a ‘training’ session for the opening of the Colosseum. He had made the point then of pointing out the Spartans to her, many of whom she recognised, and then having them put to death at the hands of the gladiators. 

Somehow he’d found more warriors of the fallen city since, and Reyna knew that meant that she was to spend her day watching former friends and allies killed at the hands of her homeland… The same way she had watched them take her wife from her all those months ago.

This was her life now.

Watching everyone she’d ever known and cared for slaughtered at the hands of Romans.

Spending her days avoiding a beating.

Spending her nights grieving for the life and love she had lost all too soon.

Her Spartan had been right… Rome had to pay for this. She didn’t know how, or when they would, but she she would find a way to make them pay…

For Thalia.


	3. Spartan Gladiators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyna did not want this day to come...  
> She couldn't watch more people she cared for taken away, murdered by Rome.  
> The Colosseum was a brutal place, it demanded a blood sacrifice.  
> Could the Spartans make sure that sacrifice was Roman blood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to welcome the Spartans to the Colosseum.  
> Usually the Romans would know they'd already won, but Sparta kneels for no-one.  
> Hope you enjoy it.  
> Like, comment, and let me know what you think.

Chains clinked around the wrists and ankles of the small group of slaves as they moved through the caverns under the Colosseum. Spartan blood ran through the veins of every man and woman that stood alongside each other today.

They were the main event.

They knew they were.

What Rome would do for a good show… For the ability to kill off the Greeks that could otherwise bring their Empire crumbling to its knees.

“Give them breast plates too, they’ll need it to last longer than 2 minutes.”

One Roman soldier spat out the order to another slave who shuffled towards the only woman in the group first, but she waved him off.

“Keep that thing away from me. I fight like a Spartan or I don’t fight at all.”

The slave nodded his understanding and stepped back into the crowds around them. All of the Spartans sported leather battle skirts and golden shin guards, the woman sporting leather binding across her breasts but the rest of her muscled abdomen remained on show, in similar fashion to how their men fought too. It was a show of strength, of power.

The legionnaire that had been their slave master was stood before them now. 

His eyes trailed over them all at their show of Greek strength. It wasn’t strength though. He saw as well as anyone the masses of scar tissue that covered the bodies of all the Spartans in front of him, they might like to think it, but they weren’t indestructible.

“In case you hadn’t figured it out yet. You are the main event. They want to see a good fight out there… But at the end of the day, you were brought here to die. Try to die well, Greeks.”

There were 11 Spartans in the group, all looking dead at the Roman as they were handed their swords and some their shields. They would put a show, but they would not accept death at the hands of any Roman. 

The woman ran a finger along the edge of her sword as she stared at the man, and spat simply.

“This is blunt.”

“That sounds like your problem to me, Spartan.” A smirk plastered itself across his face as he responded. The sound of horns and drums preventing her from arguing back.

“τι λέμε στον θεό του θανάτου?!” (“What do we say to the God of death?!”) The woman shouted over the banging of the drums as the doors lifted to reveal the sandy ground of the arena.

“όχι σήμερα!” (“Not today!”)

Even the slave master looked shocked at the rallying cry of not just her fellow Spartan soldiers, but of every Greek slave in the caverns.

9 of the Spartans ran out first, fanning out to either side of the arena. The woman standing side by side with one of the younger looking soldiers. He seemed to know what was happening though, as he held his shield out for her when the drums stopped, and the woman crashed her sword against it to their own beat.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five strikes of the sword, and the man ran out to join the lines… The woman trailing at walking pace behind him, stepping out into the blinding light of the Roman sun, casting her gaze over the gathered crowds and the gladiators stood opposing them… 

There were 11 Spartans. There were easily 20 gladiators. 

If they wanted them dead, they’d need at least double that.

…

Reyna had been on edge, watching as a group of gladiators 20 strong had marched out into the arena, doing a lap to flaunt to the crowd before they stopped in a line, staring down the currently closed gate in front of them.

This was the last fight of the day. Their main event.

This was the Spartans they were waiting for.

Reyna felt her heart hammering within her chest as she sat on one of the thrones in the royal box. The Emperor was stood at the balcony, watching over the scene, applauding his gladiators as they moved around the arena. The woman looking at him in disdain as he cheered for the deaths of the people she cared for.

The raven-haired woman stood from her chair as the other gates rattled open, her maid standing with her to hold her hand in support. The other woman was Greek, the only kind thing her ‘husband’ had done for her was letting her take the Greek slave as her handmaiden.

“Are you okay, your Grace?” The woman asked as 9 Spartans appeared from behind the door, fanning out to each side so they stood opposing the gladiators. “That’s not fair, they’re outnumbered.”

“Please Piper, did you really expect him to play fair?” 

“I guess not, they are Greek…”

Reyna offered a sympathetic smile to the younger girl who kept hold of her hand. Then she heard the beat of a sword against a shield from beyond the gate, and the Queen muttered to herself as she counted out the number of beats.

“5 beats… They only beat 5 times when led to battle… They have someone important.” Piper’s eyes flicked up at Reyna as she muttered the words, looking curiously back towards the arena as a man strode out of the gate, joining the line of Spartans on the sand but the gate didn’t close yet.

“Who is he?” 

“Perseus… I wasn’t sure he’d made it out alive. He’s a good soldier but…”

“He’s not a leader?” Reyna nodded at Piper’s statement, brow furrowing in confusion as she looked at the younger Greek. “Your Grace, look, the gates didn’t close. There’s someone else.”

Reyna looked back to the sands at Piper’s request, in time to see a woman step out from the gate - arm covering her face to keep out the sun until she got used to the light.

The woman was as well built as most of the Spartan men, and scars covered the arm she held up to the sun. 

“That’s a big scar… Women fight in Sparta too?”

“Some do, it’s their choice. That is a serious scar though…”

Reyna spoke quietly as she looked over the woman. The scar ran across her torso from hip to shoulder, and eventually the woman lowered her arm from her face as she filled the gap between the other Spartans - as she did so, Reyna’s breath caught in her throat…

The woman had looked straight up at the royal box and Reyna felt like she could cry.

Electric blue eyes peered up at her through short black hair that fell slightly across her eyes. A scar ran over her right eye, something Reyna was sure no-one else would notice from this distance, but she did… she’d spent years taking in every detail of that face, she wasn’t likely to forget it anytime soon.

“Your Grace, are you okay?” Tears welled in Reyna’s eyes as she nodded in response to Piper’s question. One word falling from her mouth in a desperate whisper…

“Thalia.”

The Greek stood with her beamed at her, squeezing her hand tighter as they looked down at the Spartan who threw a wink up at the Roman Queen.

“Kneel for your Emperor!” 

The cry from the other side of the box echoed across the arena, and the gladiators took a kneel to a chorus of ‘Hail Emperor!’

The Spartan’s did not move.

“Kneel, Spartans!” The Emperor’s hand yelled again, but they didn’t move. The woman shifted her gaze from Reyna to the Emperor as she shouted up a response.

“Η Σπάρτη γονατίζει για κανέναν!”

“What did she just say to me?!” The man asked, spinning to search for his translator who stumbled nervously over his words.

“Sparta kneels for no-one.” Reyna translated confidently, a smile tugging at her lips as her ‘husband’ clenched his jaw at the sight of the swelling pride on the other woman’s face.

“They’ll kneel when they’re dead…” He spat in response.

The Emperor turned his back quickly, correcting the position of the gold laurel wreath atop his head as he stood proudly in front of the audience, trying to seem unfazed by the Spartans failing to take a knee.

“You’re smiling, your Grace.” Piper pointed out softly.

“I am… because he’s not going to kill any of them… but one day she’ll kill him.”


End file.
